Strangely So
by Arthur Sun
Summary: Well,I really hate to say this,but I guess it's a vampire story.Actually, a half-vampire story.Instead of being a bad love story, I feel that this story  it's not completed  will be dark and gloomy.The main character is crazy, and my story is about him.
1. Hello

1.

Strangely so, the weather wasn't constantly changing anymore. It was winter, and everything about this mountainous desert was cold and windy. Tumbleweeds were a rarity, but they were still a present danger, especially for a pedestrian crossing this arid place. Especially for a thin teenager who was half blinded by the sun.

Even though Blake had sunglasses and a hood pulled down low, the rays from the sun still pierced through whatever he had covering his sensitive and unusually colored irises. Half running, half jogging, he dodged the shrubs and sharp scales of the Joshua Trees that suddenly loomed in front of his eyes. He ran the same path everyday to get to a massive complex, full of portables, two large gyms, and a plethora of lockers. The local high school once told parents in a meeting that they would try their best to keep the school open, and through rain, sleet, snow, or hail, they have persevered in their promise. Even the adding of 50 miles per hour winds to the list didn't hinder their efforts. The only thing that could close the school for a day or four was if everyone, including the snowplow driver, was snowed in their houses.

Keeping away from the main street that led directly to the school, Blake took a route much more hazardous that ran parallel to the road, so that he wouldn't get lost. If he realized the sound of the rush of passing cars was getting further away, he would move closer to the road, and vise versa. He continued his jog through the desert, and even though it would take him at least an hour to get to school, he did this everyday.

Finally, he nearly ran face-first into the fence that bordered the local elementary school, which was just downhill from the high school. After making a route around the rusting chain-link fences that surrounded the buildings that were decorated with gold leaves, brown and red turkeys, and orange horns of plenty, he arrived at the start of the sidewalk. The pine trees that dotted the massive area didn't brighten the mood at all. Instead, it seemed to mock the time before the desolate and dead season of winter, saying: "Oh, look at me, I'm green, beautiful, and lively forever!"

After the red brick schoolyard, the fractured and cold sidewalk came under his brisk step as he quickly slowed down to avoid attracting attention. Nearby, on an unpaved, dirt expanse, sat several city busses with cracked blue paint, unloading students who lived out of the reach of the yellow, school-district busses. With his destination in sight, he slowed down even further, and with the sun at his back, he could finally raise his head and pull down his hood without being blinded.

Blake had disheveled jet black hair, almost resembling the wacky hair one sees in those Japanese anime shows or manga, just not so unrealistic. He had pale white face to contrast his dark hair, allowing the rigid features of his face to clearly show themselves. Unconsciously, he slid a black gloved hand through his hair. It was almost a habit for him to do so, for it would flatten his mass of hair somewhat and avoid it being to conspicuous.

The teens from the bus would usually be creating a raucous amount of noise, but today, they were quite silent. Most of them had their hoods low and their jacket zippers up high. The wind and the dirt it kicked up weren't too much of a bother to Blake; he would only be slightly worried if the wind carried over something larger than grains of sand. He would never be short on company, and after months of walking the same short walk with the same people, he gradually picked up all of their names. Some of them even had classes that were the same as his. However, he stayed away from most of them, and they stayed away from him. There would always be a little island of emptiness surrounding him, and it was almost like he radiated an aura of hostility that kept everyone away. Rarely, someone who was also always had a dark, slim jacket, dark blue jeans, hiking boots, gloves, and had long hair might drift towards him, but the silence that sounded loudly between them always forced the person to find someone else to drift around. Today was no exception. He trekked the half mile, uphill walk surrounded by people, alone.

The school was probably once small, built to accommodate the even smaller population of people that once decided to try to populate a drab and harsh desert. It was also open-aired. However, as housing tracks were built on this barren mountaintop because of the cheap land, the school had to welcome the growing influx of immigrants. So they decided to expand cheaply, just like the homes. The school had wooden portables shipped from down the hill to the school, and now, these wooden structures make up most of the classrooms.

Although Serrano High School is mostly made of portables, the front gate and other original portions of the school were built with quality and care. Thus, the front office, library, and the complex that held all of the indoor classrooms looked decent and well built. Even though the front gate included a series of brick pillars supporting a peach-colored lattice, it was usually cramped and crowded with people who decided to loiter in a well-traveled area. So, Blake is a little claustrophobic, he usually took another way, cutting across the senior parking lot to a ramp that ran parallel to several baseball and soccer fields. The ramp leads up to the 800's, a group of portables on a slightly elevated surface, and the performing arts center.

Today, Blake decided to continue with his usual route, but when he found out the senior parking lot was completely fenced with yellow caution tape, it was too late for him to take an alternate route. The only other way would lead him around to the other side of the school, completely opposite to where his first class would be. Thus, he would have to bear with the cramped entrance of the school, and hopefully, he wouldn't freak out.

As the gate grew nearer, he swallowed nervously, but for the sake of face, he decided to continue onward. Thankfully, Blake was first in the group of the city-bus-kids, so he wouldn't have to be jostled around as much; it was practically a politely-squeezing-in-between-the-backs-of-two-people free-for-all in order to get into the campus. Tingling in anticipation, Blake found a niche between two people and dove in, desperate to get out of the sea of people. Wearing his hood over his forehead along with his sunglasses, he created an aura of mysteriousness that drove people's curiosity away. Just by posing as a proud and ignorant emo/gothic kid, like he normally did, he usually was usually ignored. And thankfully, today was no exception.

He took whatever open paths he could to get out of the crowd, and after nudging two lovebirds out of his way, he broke free. He breathed a small sigh, and as if to add finishing touches to his disguise, he pulled the slim jacket sleeve up just ever so slightly, revealing a black bracelet with gleaming silver studs. Now that he was safely within the confines of the school, and in a public area surrounded by people, his step was a lot slower, and more graceful in a way. However, it still seemed like he still radiated hostility that drove everyone out of his path. He made his way through the quad, a small, outdoor amphitheatre, a series of blue and gold tables with patterned rhombus-shaped holes, and the small, tiny cafeteria that could hold no more than a hundred of the school's one thousand five hundred students.

Throughout his entire walk, and underneath his black shades, his red eyes darted back and forth suspiciously, as if he was a policeman looking for a terrorist at LAX. Always, no matter what day, he would always be like this, always on the lookout for something from his past. However, for the select few who constantly stalk him and think he's a vampire, they would have noticed something quite peculiar. First, he wasn't walking to his first class, and secondly, he seemed to be quite determined. He was walking faster than normal, speeding around corners, and dancing around people who might have ran into him. Amazingly, he seemed to have a sense of purpose today.

If anyone was stalking him today, he would have left them far behind and, metaphorically, eating his dust. Blending in with the semi-busy hallways, he entered and exited different corridors, looking for something, or someone, that no one seemed to see. Finally, he exited the indoor part of the school, appearing near the health office and the counseling office. He slowed his pace to a slow walk. Without a doubt, he found what he was looking for. He squinted, staring against the glare of the rising sun at two people. One, a guy, wore a drab, black windbreaker with bright blue jeans, and thin, leather fingerless gloves. The other, a girl a bit taller than the guy, wore a long beige coat with black jeans and black leather gloves. One wouldn't think there would be anything unusual these two, but what was quite peculiar, in Blake's eye, was their pale complexion and how their sunglasses were practically darker than black, like his.

They were talking, and the girl briefly laughed, shaking her head slightly. As if she noticed something, she suddenly turned around, and gave Blake a smile. The guy turned around too, and gave him a quick smile. The girl, however, noticing the word "forever sad" etched into his face, she gave a quick frown and started talking to the other. They both had stopped walking, and with occasional glances, they were waiting for Blake to join them.

Blake had never seen these two before, and through unconscious eavesdropping, he almost knew all the students at this school. Without a second thought, he started to walk faster, accelerating slowly towards them. His side bag bounced on his waist as he tried to catch up to the happy couple. However, in some ghastly, dream-like manner, no matter how fast he walked, he could not catch up to them. Just as he thought he was finally getting close, the bell rang. As a sea of people suddenly appeared from nowhere, everyone was swept into different currents of students and the couple were swallowed by the living lake. Blake would have to wait a while in order to meet them.

Following the different rivers of people, his slight case of claustrophobia not even close to forgotten, he finally managed to arrive at his first class in time to hear the final bell ring. With a quick wave, the teacher, a tall blond-haired man by the name of Mr. Roberts, dismissed the tardy and started to call roll. However, Blake didn't even see the gesture, for he was much more focused on a different sight that nearly froze him on the spot. It was the pale pair, sitting at a table in back corner that was occupied yesterday by him. Blake clearly showed he was a little more than frustrated, but everyone, including the two, was too focused on chatting and laughing take any notice of someone who usually didn't want to be noticed.

He found an empty seat close to the door and after several more seconds of intense glaring, one of them finally noticed the man in black. She smiled and poked the guy, who then turned and waved at him to come over. A frown entered his face, but he still stuffed his folder in his pack. However, as he started to rise, the teacher began his lecture and everyone quieted down. Once again, a meeting between the two and him would have to wait.

The lesson was short and brief, and the rest of the time left was given for the students to "work on their homework", or in other words, talk. After hesitating for a few minutes, and a few false starts, Blake got up and slowly trudged over to their two-man white table. He stood over the table and placed each hand apart from each other on the edge of the desk. A slight breeze ruffled his hair as the air conditioner wheezed, gasped, and choked when it sputtered on. Their conversation halted to a stop, and they both turned to face him. Even indoors, all three of them had their sunglasses on tight to their faces.

"So…" she said. Her voice was soft and light, not like the hoarse voice some girls have.

"So what?" Blake's voice was a whisper, quiet, discomforting, and haunting.

They both slightly fidgeted in their seats, and their small, semi-warm smiles grew even smaller.

"So who are you?" His voice wasn't that different from hers, except that the words just rolled off of his tongue, as if he was born to talk.

"My name is Blake Reverie."

"Well, my name is Rebecca. He calls me Becca sometimes to annoy me," she said. Her smile had vanished like a bunny in a top hat.

"My name is Parker." His face was a little grim. One of his hands was tightly clutching the edge, the glove wrinkling. His other hand was rigid on his lap. Rebecca, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed, left leg over the other her hands on her lap. Her face, however, wasn't too happy. An awkward silence hung in the air, and according to popular belief, a gay baby was born.

Trying to relieve the silence, she said, "We're siblings."

Blake had no reaction. If his showed any emotion except for a constant frown that seemed to be etched in his face, the glasses hid any expression well. As the air conditioning sputtered and died, its last breaths knocked Blake's bangs down, covering his eyes and nose, giving him a haunting look, darkening his entire face. Parker and Emilie shivered slightly, and after seeing their brief shudders, Blake brushed his hair aside.

The dismissing bell saved another pair of parents from having a gay baby. With a few quick steps that made him seem like he was flying, Blake reached his desk, grabbed his pack, and was the first to knock aside the blue door and get out. The siblings looked at each other, and as they both got up and reached for their backpacks, they both shivered again, this time more prolonged.


	2. Oh, him

2.

As they exited the classroom and headed against the current, they both were silent. Without a doubt, they were thinking about the strange person whom they just met as they slowly made their way to the next class. Even when they finally separated to head to different classes, they did not say a word. They briefly looked each other in the eye as the parted, and then they headed in different directions. She didn't glance at the map at all, or even her schedule. Walking with a plethora of confidence, most people wouldn't have known she was a new student, and would have thought she owned half the school. After practically walking to the other corner of the campus (a fair distance), she only stopped once, just a quick pause in her step, to glance at the worn out, embossed room numbers.

Several minutes early of the minute bell (a bell that signals loitering students that there is only a minute until the tardy bell), she arrived in her appropriate classroom, a dark room with only a TV and a computer monitor for light.

"Could you turn on the light for me?" Somewhere in the darkness, the teacher didn't look up as she continued to use her computer. When the lights turned on, they revealed a small amount of students in the classroom, all tightly enveloped in thick and woolen clothes. Only one person was only slightly clad in winter clothes, and was wearing all black. And that person, out of all the luck in the world, was Blake sitting unmoving in his chair with his head buried in his arms. He had taken his jacket off, revealing a black T-shirt with a yellow smiley facing grinning and with fangs. The skin on his arm was pale and unnaturally white, and here and there, was the slightly darkened area that looked like a bruise. In other words, his skin looked like it's never seen the sun. Rubbing her own arms, she shivered, and not because of the cold, for the third time that day.

She walked up, quietly, to the teacher's desk, and after waiting for a few moments, the young, female teacher finally noticed her.

"May I help you?"

"Yes. Um…I'm a new student and I just moved up here from down the hill. My counselor told me I needed to get a signature from you." Rebecca handed her a half-page. After glancing at it briefly, the teacher gave the paper a sloppy signature. "I'm Mrs. Hawthorne, and this is AP Biology."

"I'm Rebecca. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too." She then turned back to her computer, looking at who knew what.

Rebecca walked slowly, weaving through the student desks, finally selecting a seat next to Blake. Suppressing a shiver that would have went down her spine, she glanced around the room, looking at the diagrams of dissected frogs and other poor animals, as well as the one large picture that showed a censored picture of the human anatomy. There were also colorful posters that were meant to teach kids the value of equal rights and to lift morale, but it was practically common sense that those were either meant for playing I Spy or for students to make fun of.

After several boring minutes that seemed like hours, the minute bell rang, diverting her attention from an extremely detailed picture of the human brain. As a flood of students poured into the white portable, the room seemed like it was packed to the limit. All of the students weren't the buff football players or the make-up made cheerleaders; these students were all sitting straight up and getting out their folders of the class. Sitting one seat away from the back corner, and taller than most of the people in the class, she had a practically unlimited view of the classroom. When Mrs. Hawthorne finally tore her eyes from the computer, and she rose from her desk. Starting her lecture in the typical textbook manner, she said, "Everyone open their books to page 31 and read to page 45." She then sat back down and once again and glued her eyes to the computer screen.

Opening her textbook to page 31, she read to page 45 in a few minutes. Looking up from her book, she glanced around to notice that either everyone was already done reading, or they just decided not to read. The people who could text started to text, and the people who didn't talked with their neighbors or traveled across the room. The person next to her kept on giving her, what he probably thought was secretive, glances that were not even close to secretive. With her glasses, it was hard for her to successfully give him a glare, so she took them off, revealing a pair of eyes with reddish-black pupils. She then commenced to look at him until he finally peeked his way. When the guy next to her finally looked at her, he retreated to the other side of his seat and looked away, blushing. After a few seconds, he gave her another peek, only to be met by one more menacing stare from the creepy eyes. With two more tries, he was finally conditioned to not look at her.

After putting on her sunglasses again, she turned around, only to see Blake staring at her instead. He didn't have his glasses on, revealing his dark red eyes, almost undistinguishable from black, boring holes into her. She met the gaze without blinking. "I didn't know we had the same class for this period too."

"Well, now you know."

"You know, you don't have to be so cold to everyone."

"I know. But I want to." He still kept staring at her, in some strange fashion, as if she had suddenly sprouted antlers and started mooing. "So tell me, what are you doing here? I'm quite sure we haven't met before."

"Well…I…" She stumbled over a few more words and managed to form a coherent sentence. "I'm here because I'm here." Too add to her definite and straightforward stance to this topic, she mounted her hands on her hips. "I can be cold if I want to, too." She turned away, looking for something to do, but ended up finding nothing. A small smile gently touched Blake's lips as he examined her trying-to-be-casual behavior.

"Don't do that", he said, slightly touching her arm. "I actually want to talk to you."

She sniffed slightly with disdain. "I don't have to do what you want me to do. You're not my boss." Finally, finding something to do that would look casual, she started flipping through the tattered textbook nonchalantly. The book practically fell apart under her light touches.

"Hm…" He turned away and buried his head in his arms again and rested on the table.

"There really is something wrong with you!" she suddenly blurted out. She slammed the battered textbook and a few pages fell out.

"Hm?" He raised his head from the table slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" His brows furrowed slightly. He paused and tilted his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing… I mean…. You're unusual."

"Hm. I know." He put his head back on the desk.

A long period of silence echoed between them. "So…." She shifted slightly in her seat. "What was it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Done flipping through that useless stack of paper?" His voice was not dripping with sarcasm; it was pouring like a waterfall with it.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm finished. So say what you have to say."

"Hm." Instead of lifting his head, he just tilted it, so that his hair was slightly rustled and that he was facing her with his head still lying on the desk. "So…. Who do you live with?"

"I would say that's a bit personal. Besides, you probably don't even know him. And I know that I don't even know you."

"You used 'know' three times. You know my name. And I know that that's more than enough."

"I don't think so."

"What makes you think I care about what you think?" he whispered, almost threateningly. His eyes were closed.

"Well aren't you an arrogant pig! Didn't anyone teach you manners?" She frowned deeply, almost in anger.

"You should know that I used to kill people for saying that. And to answer your question, not really." He didn't even twitch.

She was silent. Her mouth slightly open and her head tilted, as if she was aghast and thinking about something quite important. Without opening an eye, he said, "Hm. So in all of your, what, twenty, thirty years of life (or rather half-life), you've never been threatened before? Where were the raised? The moon?"

She didn't say anything. Her expression unchanging. Without opening his eyes, he whispered, "Close your mouth. You're about to drool and look even more like an idiot." She snapped her mouth shut.

"How do you do that?"

"What? Talk?"

"Know what I'm doing without opening your eyes." She crossed her legs.

"You thought that my eyes were completely closed?"

"You mean they weren't? I saw that –"

"I never said that. I just asked if you thought my eyes were closed or not. You're so gullible…."

"I am not gullible! You're the one who keeps on saying immature stuff!"

"Immature? If I was immature you would've been cussed out. Or dead. But that's beside the point. I'm most certainly not immature."

The bell rang; a tinny sound that could barely be heard over the clamor and chatter that was emitted from the old speaker. But everyone seemed to hear and they all tumbled out, two by two, outside of the classroom. Blake and Rebecca were the last to leave the room. He donned his jacket and backpack slowly, seeming like he was waiting for Rebecca to leave first. But she didn't. So instead, once reaching the door, he practically flew. Turning a quick corner (the room was the last room in the entire school) he went into a long, dirt corridor. With the walls of classrooms on one side and rusted steel fence on the other, there were only a few exit paths that lead back to the main schoolyard.

"Why'd you want to come back here for? There's no one around." She had followed him out the class and was right behind him.

"Because I want to kill you." He suddenly turned around and slightly grinned at her. His glasses were in his hand. She took a few steps away from him and her face turned paler than usual under the cloudy sky. "What?" she nearly shrieked. "So you are cra –"

His slight grin turned upside down. "I was kidding. I thought teens these days were prone to jokes…"

"That wasn't a joke! That was like a threat, or…like…. a promise, or something. You're a freak!" Some color returned to her face.

"Whatever. I came 'back here' so that we could talk. That is, if you don't have an old book to fiddle with." Receiving no immediate answer, he sighed, turned, and started to walk away.

"Wait a sec!" He turned his head to find her holding onto her chest with a look of relief on her face. "I'm coming."

"You're second's up." He started to walk away.

"Geez, you sarcastic bastard! You're the one who wanted to talk!"

"I can change my mind if I want to. Nothing's written in stone. I'm free now."

"Never mind." She caught up to him. "Where's your next class? We only have 7 minutes to get to class."

"It's right over there." He pointed at the second alley/exit. "I can run if I have to."

"Mine's over there too. So we can walk together."

"Yeah. Sure. Are you going to answer my questions this time?"

"Only if you answer mine." She smiled and looked at him.

"I'll think about it." His face had no expression. Rebecca looked quite crestfallen, but he didn't seem to see her.

"So who is it that you and your brother live with?"

"His name's Ignatius. You've probably haven't heard of him. He's never mentioned anything remarkable. But he's rich and he's taken us everywhere. Ignatius would buy us anything we wanted, and we'd take vacations and go wherever we wanted. There were practically no bounds to his money, and we'd each had, like, four cars even though we weren't old enough to drive. We had everything! He found us in London, and then we've been to his New York penthouse for a time. When we said we wanted to finish our education, he brought us here. I never really bothered to ask him why he brought us here. Of all places, why here, right?"

"Yeah….right…." Blake stopped. He seemed to be shaking considerably, and he blanched so much that his face practically turned gray. "Yeah…."

"Are you okay? You seem paler than normal… Do you know Ignatius?"

"Yeah…" he gulped slightly, Adam's apple bobbing. "You see, I knew Ignatius, and Ignatius was… well, I knew him quite well and I've spend too many years of my life with him. I guess you could say he was my 'master' and he most certainly wasn't kind to me at all."


	3. Why?

3.

He had turned slightly away from her and from her gaze she could still see that his face still blended in, perfectly, with the cloudy sky. Blake buried his head in his hands, shaking it slowly, back and forth, like a pendulum that would never stop. But it stopped. His eyes (not counting his pupil and iris) were filled with red streaks, and there was a strange expression on his face. It was a slight balance between amusement and complete, out-of-control anger. A slight shiver raced through his body, starting from the tips of his fingers, which sent him rocking slightly on his heels.

"Are you okay?" She took a hesitant step towards him and reached out, slightly putting one hand on his shoulder in a comforting, kind manner. When he didn't shrug her off, she gripped the shoulder slightly tighter and tried to turn him around so she could clearly see his face. She didn't even come close to actually moving him. With a slight, blur of black, her hand was knocked off from its perch. He had turned around of his own accord, revealing a torn face that looked like he had been crying. "Are you okay?" she said.

"No."

He then started to walk away, leaving her alone, but instead of gliding towards the school, he was climbing a small hill that lead to the fence that kept the unwanted items out and the kids in.

"Where are you going?" She ran after him, catching up in a few seconds.

"Leaving."

"What? Why would you be leaving? Where would you go?"

"Somewhere. Away from him." He gripped the iron lattice-like structure tightly. So tight that his knuckles literally turned white. (Yes. It's possible)

"But why? He's done nothing wrong."

"That's what you think. You probably just know nothing about him. My recommendation is to leave as soon as possible. You're bound to be hurt while you're around him." He reached up, grasped the top bar, and in one swift motion, pulled himself up and over the 6 foot fence.

She gaped. "How'd you do that?"

"What?" He looked around, as if she was talking to someone else. When fixed his gaze on her again, he gave her a small smile and wave, and said, "So I'll be leaving now. I hope you won't tell him anything."

"But I still don't understand why you're leaving." She hooked two fingers from both hands on the fence, and looked down.

"You don't have to understand. Besides, it's quite complicated. You won't tell him, right?" The minute bell rang. There was only one minute left for the students to get to their respective classrooms.

"I might. I probably will."

"What? Why?" His voice rose up in volume.

"You don't have to understand," she mimed in a childish voice.

"Fine. Whatever. Bluff all you want. I still win." He turned around.

"Wait."

He put his hands in his jacket pockets. "I'm waiting."

"I won't tell him…. If you come back. I hardly know you, and either than my brother, I've never met anyone else who's…." she turned around to look at the school. "You know," she whispered.

"I won't stay long at all," he warned with a whisper. "And I'll have to take both of your phones."

"Why our phones?" She unconsciously slid her hand to her bulging front pocket.

"Contacting him. Did your mother drop you too many times?"

"What? No – Fine. I'll give you my phone. Now come over the fence. We're going to be late." The final bell rang.

Blake gave a small smile. "We're late." He grasped the top of the fence and lifted himself over. "I'm actually curious too. I'm curious about you and your brother's life. Maybe everyone's changed…." He gave a short, barking laugh. "You'll answer my questions, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Where do we get those lockout thingys? I don't think I was paying attention to that teach." She had already begun walking back to the school, back to one of the corridors lined with classrooms.

"Wait a second." He ran up to her and grasped her shoulder with a vice-like grip, fiercely digging his fingers into that soft spot above the shoulder blade. When she opened her mouth to scream, or even say something, he snaked his hand over her neck and slapped his free hand over half-open mouth.

"Let me go!" she mumbled into his mouth as she made several unsuccessful attempts to bite his finger.

"Sh…sh…sh," he slowly crooned, as he dragged her kicking body over to the fence. Rebecca kicked and tried to break free of his grip, but she didn't have enough strength to fight back.

"Mmmmm!" She tried to say something as his hold tightened, but no coherent words came out.

"Shut up," he hissed and he threw her, hard and with no remorse, on the fence. She landed, stunned, sitting on the ground with her back to the fence. At first, she just sat there, wide eyed behind her slightly askew sunglasses, staring up at the looming, and quite imposing figure wearing all black, standing over her. To make everything more scary for her, he as blotting out the sun, shadowing his face.

"I'm sorry…." He whispered. "I'm really, really sorry…." His voice was only a breath in the wind, hardly anything audible. "I'm sorry…. I guess I should leave now, huh?" He walked slightly to the left and grasped the top of the fence. "I hope you'll forgive me."

"Wait," she choked out. Her voice seemed forced and cracked, like the voice you hear after someone cries. "I can forgive you…. So don't leave."

"You _can_ forgive me? What's that supposed to mean?" His expression was strange, as if he was slightly infuriated but trying to control his temper.

"I will forgive you. If… if you promise you'll never do anything like that again." She seemed to regain her voice and composure. Standing up and brushing off her clothes, she took a slight half-step away from him. "But only because I know how you are. And why you would do something like that."

"If you 'know how I am' then you should know that you can't expect me to hold onto any promises, because I can't keep them. But if you will accept my sincere apology," he made an exaggerated sweeping bow that included taking off his invisible hat and swept it across the ground. "Then I'll be quite grateful. And sort of happy." But all this time his face still had a sardonic smile with no warmth and his left hand was still holding onto the top bar.

"Let go of that bar. You're making me a little nervous." She bit her bottom lip a little bit.

"Nervous? How?" His hand was still on the bar, but it wasn't gripping the steel pole like there was no tomorrow.

"Come on, lets go. You'll have to lead the way. I don't know where the lockout stuff is." She skipped down the hill and reached the start of a corridor. "Are you going to come?"

Blake looked outside, then at the school, then outside, then finally back at her. He sighed. "Yeah. I guess so."

He slowly walked down the steep hill without stumbling, and made his way to her. "Let's go," he sighed, and pushed past her. "The passes are at the quad. You know, the place full of blue and yellow tables and the coverings."

After everything had been settled, they walked to their class with at least a three meter distance between them. Whenever she tried to catch up, he quickened his pace to stay ahead of her. At the quad, the proctor had given them orange slips and asked for a reason why they were so late.

Rebecca decided to answer. "Um… that's because we were-"

But Blake decided to coolly cut her off. "We were talking behind the school. We're old friends, you see, and we haven't talked to each other in a long time, so we took this opportunity to chat and exchange stories. So we forgot the time. Can we go now?" He looked bored.

Tired, and probably in no mood to argue with an obnoxious student, the proctor dismissed the two with a slight wave of her hand.

Blake entered the classroom first, placing the orange slip on the edge of the teacher's desk. He selected a chair far away from Parker and the empty seat at his side. Once again, the newcomers have managed to always oust him from his original spot. Now he was forced to sit somewhere completely surrounded by talkative chatterboxes. The teacher was lecturing and writing numbers and fraction bars on the board. He didn't even really bother to pay attention. He just rested his head on a propped elbow and stared at the clock underneath his sunglasses.

Finally, the seemingly-distant footsteps on the ramp outside shoot him from whatever thoughts he was having. Rebecca entered, and after staring at the lecturing teacher of a second or two, she followed suit and set the orange slip on top of Blake's. She then, reacting to Parker's gaze, walked over to the empty seat.

"What happened? Why were you late?"

"We…were talking…"

"But where were you?"

"Behind the school…"

"Alone? With him?" His voice was a slowly rising hiss. But other people seemed to be too busy taking notes to be paying attention to him. He pretended to take notes, but still kept on whispering. "You know he's…to be sublime, dangerous."

"He was…alright. Nothing…violent." She started digging through her backpack. Taking out a notebook, she started to copy all of the notes on the board, never once locking eyes with him.

"You're sure? Anyways, we can just call Ignatius if we need anything."

"Actually… I sort of made a deal with him. When I told him he lived with Ignatius, he nearly freaked out and jumped the fence. The deal was: if we would give him our phones and answer his questions, then he'll stay. But he didn't say for how long… So we'll have to keep an eye on him. He already has my phone, and I'll bet he'll ask for yours later." He voice was a calm, flat breeze that flew with the air conditioning. Only Parker could hear what she was saying. Parker and Blake, that is.

Blake made no sign of actually listening, but there was no doubt he was. He absentmindedly scratched his head.

"I'm not going to give him my phone. He might… do something to it, or even break it. No."

"You have to. It was part of the deal."

"The deal that I didn't know of!" His voice rose slightly above a whisper and the teacher gave a dramatic pause while writing out the quadratic formula. "What if Ignatius has an emergency?" His voice returned to a slight whisper now, and thankfully, not full of any erratic emotions.

"Fine. But he might leave. You know, if we just do what he wants, we might be able to take him home with us. And he might even see Ignatius for the first time, in what? 24 years? That'll make Ignatius happy, and maybe Blake'll think things through."

"Okay. When we leave, I'll give him my phone. But I think I'll sneak a text to Ignatius first. He might not even get it, so–"

Blake gave a slightly-loud cough. But it was normal-sounding and realistic. No one bothered to even take a look at him, except for the two whisperers in the corner. They quickly silenced themselves. Instead, Parker gave Rebecca a small nod. She nodded back. He took out his phone, flipped it open, and started quietly tapping the appropriate keys for a message. Blake made another noise, a string of slightly-loud coughs, each one louder than the next. He then glared at the only two people looking at him. Parker stopped tapping and dropped the phone in a pocket on his backpack and looked away. Rebecca slightly blushed and kept on copying.

When Parker made a move towards his phone, another cough rang guiltily through his ears. But by now, they were starting to get annoying, and several students other then the talkative two peeked at look at the seemingly-sick teen. Even the teacher made another dramatic pause, and a tiny titter of laughter broke the monotone hum of the air conditioning. "Forget it," Rebecca said. "He'll just find another way to warn us… Don't reach for your phone anymore. Just forget it."

Finally, after several worksheets were handed out, they were dismissed by a bell that came through a modernized speaker. Blake, although surrounded by students clogging the thin aisles chairs, was still first out the door. Rebecca poked Parker and pointed, while he made a playful, annoyed look. They exited to find Blake standing in front of the classroom, in the paved corridor. Once he made sure they saw him, he started walking. Catching up to him, Parker shoved his phone into Blake's chest. "Here. Are you happy now?" Blake snatched it away and put it in his jacket pocket. "I'm never 'happy'."

"So you'll stay, though, right?" He walked backwards, facing Blake while Rebecca walked next to him.

"I'll stay for a while. But I won't go with you to the house. That would be suicide on my part."

"But why no-"

Rebecca interrupted him. "That won't be a problem yet. So what's your first question?"

"Straightforward? Fine. Let me think… How old are the two of you? I daresay that both of you look about the same age."

"I'm 16, and he's 15."

"So you're body is 16 is his is 15. Okay, but that's not what I meant."

"So you mean, like, how long we've existed?"

"Yes." Blake sounded exasperated and looked tired.

"Well… I was born in '84 and he in '85… So that would make us…" She gave a slight pause.

"So you're 26 and he's 25. Okay… Where have you been? Any cities, buildings…" They walked down a clogged flight of stairs and he tensed dramatically. Once past the band room and the performing arts center, he was visibly much more relaxed.

"We were born in New-" Parker poked her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her aside.

"Do you want to tell him all that?"

"Why not? It'll do us no harm. I'm older. I can tell what's good or bad. So shut up." They walked back to a still Blake. They continued walking, and they went down another flight of stairs to reach the cluster of buildings where the first class took place.

"So we have the same class, right? 804?"

"Yeah. Should I continue?"

"Yes."

"Okay… So both of us were born in New York, with semi-rich parents. We've been to Boston-"

"Underground?"

"What? No…. Anyways…. Boston, and most of New England. Then one year, I was 16 and he was 15, we flew to London to have a vacation. Then, with Ignatius, we've been to Stockholm, St. Petersburg, Paris, Czechoslovakia, and Germany. Oh, and here. And that's it."

"You've never been in any 'communities'?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"I'll take that as a no. And you?" Blake's question was directed at the silent Parker. "Has he taken you anywhere she hasn't been? Anywhere underground?"

"No." He seemed a little blunt, and perhaps a little "ticked off". At what, probably no one was sure of.

Ignoring whatever was up with him, he didn't say a word, and arrived at the front of the classroom. Opening the door for the two, he made a slight bow. As Parker was about to step into the door when Blake said, "Ladies first," with a small smile. But his momentum carried him forward and through the portal. Turning his head and giving him a dark look, he kept on going. Rebecca stifled a giggle, and then she went in. Blake held the door fro two others, and when both of them didn't even bother to acknowledge the fleshy doorstop, Blake practically slammed the door on the third.

"Hello, Blake." The teacher, who was tall and seemed like an out-of-shape basketball player, greeted him with.

"Hello Mr. Thomas. Have a nice weekend?" He seemed patient and calm, completely relaxed without even show a sign of being bored. In fact, he seemed a little happy to have this conversation.

"Yeah. We went to that Chinese restaurant you suggested, and it was great! Did you ever order that-"

"Ahem." Parker had cleared his throat somewhat impolitely.

Mr. Thomas swung his head around and took off his rectangular reading glasses. "Can I help you?"

Blake went over and sat down in his usual seat, which was towards the front end of the room and a slightly closer to the teacher's desk.

"We-" Parker was, in turn, interrupted by Rebecca.

"We're new students, and we have this paper you have to sign." They handed him a half-sheet of paper with a table on it.

Putting on his glasses in a scholarly manner, he peered at the two and gave both of them scribbles that could be identified as the initials "M.T". Morgan Thomas.

"Here you go." He handed them back to their respective owners. He then peered inquisitively between the two at Blake. "So, do you know these two? I've never seen you open a door for anyone before, much less make a comment."

"That was probably the only time too. I do know these two. I met them this morning. Does that count?"

Mr. Thomas gave a short laugh. "I believe that does count as knowing. What about you? Do anything good this weekend?"

"No, not really. Just stayed at home, used the laptop, and some other boring stuff that doesn't deserve to be mentioned."

"Hm… Okay. Oh, right! I have a book for you." Scooting back in his wheelie chair, he opened the cabinet, took out a paperback and threw it at him. Blake caught it and looked at the cover. "The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo". A Swedish book. Translated. "It's a bit recent, but I thought it would do for you. I'm sure you'll like it."

"Thanks. I wonder how I'll ever live without you…"

Mr. Thomas chuckled and went back on grading papers.

The two sat towards the back of the room, ignoring Blake's slight waves to beckon them forward. Giving a small sigh, he complied and went to sit in a small, one-man desk beside Rebecca. "I still have some questions to ask."

"Okay… But first, I have one question."

Blake looked a little peeved. "What?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Why are you so…open towards him, and not towards other…people?"

"I don't know. He gives me stuff, he…he…he doesn't ask too many questions about me…and about my life. He's just nice and tries to live with me the best he can. My turn. Let me think…"

"How 'bout we play a game?"

"What?"

"A game. You ask one question, and then I'll ask one, then you, then me, and whatever."

"Fine. Okay… With Ignatius, have you ever met any other... people like us?"

"Not really… He once said he was going to go meet some friends, but he didn't take us with him."

"And where –?"

"Wait a sec! It's my – our turn." Blake looked like he was about to kill someone.

"Um…old are you? Body and real age, please." She beamed slightly at his peeved face as she framed two questions into one.

"14 and 56. Where were you guys? As in, where were you two when he met his 'friends'?"

"We were in… Where were we?" He nudged her prone brother.

"New York. We were in a restaurant while he went out."

"Okay. Hm…" Rebecca was thinking.

"How about you let him ask me a question?" Blake had his head propped up on an elbow again and pointed at Parker with his other hand.

"Fine." She crossed her arms and mock pouted.

Instead of leaning on the wall, Parker sat up. "What was it like in Underground Boston?"

The smile Blake had when he looked at Rebecca's pouting disappeared. "What?"

"Underground Boston. Or wherever it was you said you were from. What was it like?"

Blake slowly grinded his bottom lip. "Horrible. My turn."

"Wait." Parker leaned forward. "That's not an answer. I want some details. Ignatius never told us anything, except that he lived there for sometime. He never told us why you left-"

"Escaped," Blake interrupted.

"Escaped. But from some descriptions he gave us, it seemed like an okay place. So what was it like?"

"It was like hell."

"That's not a good answer."

"It's like hell trying to masquerade as heaven."

"That's still not a good answer."

Blake leaned forward, over Rebecca's desk, so that his nose nearly touched his. "That's your opinion, and I don't give a damn about it." He made sure only the three of them would hear. He leaned back, back into his small desk.

"It's your turn now…" Rebecca said, after a few minutes or so. The minute bell had rung and the entire class slowly poured in from the hallway. Blake looked away, not answering.


End file.
